Here’s one I made earlier.

I spent the rest of the afternoon under the car trying to fashion a bush-fix to stop the exhaust banging against the rear diff, using some d-brackets I bought to hold our spade. Becky kept suggesting I go ask Kris for help, as she’d now seen what a real bush-mechanic could do. I refused, as I could see what needed doing and I didn’t want to keep hassling him on his holiday.

As good as new

We decided that we’d get up at first light, do the 8km round trip to see the falls, then head slowly towards King Edward River Campground. This way we could be sure other people would pass us if something else fell off the car. It would also mean we’d beat the helicopters, that start circling the falls from about 8:30am onwards. Yes, as remote as it is, there are four helicopters at the campground that do tours around the falls.

I don’t think either of us slept that well, and dingoes wandering about the camp didn’t help. At first light we leapt out of bed (read: crawled), packed up, and had started the walk before most others had even got out of bed. It was definitely a new record for us.

We’d read that it was quite a tough grade 5 walk, but like most warning signs we have read, it amounted to nothing. If only they applied them to roads. The scariest part was Becky almost standing on a snake, with the tail disappearing into the bush. Apart from that, walking at that time in the morning is lovely, and we hope to try it again under less worrisome times, but I doubt we ever will.

We reached the falls within an hour, and had the place to ourselves. It was a lovely spot. Not wreak your car lovely, but still.

Wow, a waterfall

No hold on, it's actually a multitiered waterfall

We clambered over the rocks to get a good view of the falls that were still flowing. Becky managed to put the worries to one side as I took a photo with the falls in the background.

The glasses hide the tears

I did not.

Not quite as composed as Becky

As we were heading back we passed Kris and Nan, and stopped for a chat. As we were all heading to King Edward River that day, Becky asked them to look out for us on the way, and if we weren’t there, to send out the search parties and spare no expense to the Australian tax payer. They agreed and asked the same of us. And with our fail-safe in place we headed off, stopping briefly to lookout from the top of the falls.

Is this it?

Once back at the camp, we nervously started the car and crawled off, with 80km of terrible roads ahead and the car being held together with safety pins, bluetac and sticky tape. We inched along the terrible road, stopping ever 10km to check the batteries, exhaust and generally make sure nothing else was missing. For most of the journey, despite a small amount of battery acid spraying the hot engine, everything seemed to be holding, but by the end the second battery bracket had come loose and needed tightening. This time we caught it before there was a fire, so that’s something I guess. It took four draining and painful hours to reach the campground.

Not long after we got there, Kris and Nan pulled up to say hello. Kris checked out my exhaust fix and gave it the thumbs up. I think my fix getting Kris’s approval impressed Becky more than being awarded my PhD. We took a look at the battery and, although there had been a bit of acid leakage, it was still working and charging.

Becky and I went for a swim still feeling slightly knocked about, and started talking to another couple by the river. Strangely, this situation had made us both far more social. The bloke offered some more tape to help limit acid leakage and tie wire to shore up the exhaust. Later, as we chatted with others around our car, we all noted how much more friendly we become once out of the city. One noted that he’d lived in the same house for 20 years, but barely knew his neighbours, and now was chatting to everyone. It didn’t seem the right time to mention that I’d not stopped to help some aboriginals, due to a deep underlying prejudice I didn’t even know I had.

After another restless night’s sleep, I got up and started taping up the battery, tightening the battery bracket and shoring up the exhaust. For a holiday I am spending an inordinate amount of time working, not to speak of the damage being done to my soft, academic’s hands… I’ve got callouses for the first time in 20 years and ground in dirt that couldn’t wash off!

We said goodbye to Kris and Nan, exchanging details and hoping to meet up somewhere down the track. I even gave them the address to this blog… They asked after Becky mentioned it, I haven’t started handing it out willy nilly to people. “Hey, you guys must read my blog, yeah. My mum says it’s fucking brilliant”.  Anyway, if you ever did get round to reading, Hello Kris and Nan!

We were the last to leave the campsite, hoping to drive the 110km to Drysdale RiverStation, along what we remembered as a better road than the one to the falls. While the road was slightly better, it didn’t mean it was good and induced flashbacks from the previous day, plus we still had to stop every so often to check how things were doing. This included finding the second battery had wobbled loose again. I also stopped by an abandoned 80 series cruiser to see if there was anything useful left… there was not.

This used tissue and the empty beer cans might be useful

Around 1pm we pulled into Drysdale River Station, and Becky called the RACQ to see if we could get a battery delivered to us. We have the premium membership, but they said we were too far away. They offered to tow us, but would pay for only 200km of the 470km journey leaving us out of pocket for anywhere between $500-$1000. As we were considering our options, someone at the station said they’d just got a new car battery delivered, and we could buy it for $250. BOOM! Problem solved, and it cost the same as the one I bought in Darwin.

One used battery for sale, small hole needs attention, but works fine

It took me a while to install it, and several people came over to offer help, advise and use of their tools. It was all very heart warming. By the time all this had been done, it was past 3pm. As it gets dark at 5:30pm, we decided to spend the night at Drysdale, and first thing the next day head to the only mechanic on the Gibb just outside the Imintji Community called Over the Range, to have the exhaust and battery bracket checked. After putting the tent up, we collapsed finally feeling like we might be over the worst of it.